


Hoarding

by Chereche



Series: Descendants Fanfics [6]
Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: Food, Gen, Poverty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4546305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chereche/pseuds/Chereche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben uncovers a depressing habit of the villain kids, realising, yet again, just how difficult a life they have lived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hoarding

**Author's Note:**

> Descendants are not mine. This story draws influence from both the book and the movie.

Ben hadn’t realised it. He wasn’t sure that anyone had noticed it as gossip, as it inevitably did, would have relayed the information to him long ago. He supposed that, in a way, it was stealing, but he didn’t really see it that way. He considered it to be hoarding before anything else, and it cut him to the core to realise that they had found it necessary. Once again, he wondered at the life they had had to live. He promised himself that he would work out a schedule to determine how soon and how feasible it would be to remove more children from the island. Eventually he hoped to rid the island of all its children, but there were a lot of things that had to be considered before that, and infrastructure that would definitely have to be set in place if he wanted that to be a reality. For now, he would simply focus on the four he had. And, if he was one hundred percent being honest, the self part of him would admit that since he had found the purpled hair beauty from his vision in the form of Mal, he really did not need to have the islanders as a priority any more. But no, that would be entirely too selfish of him to think that way, and so, he would. However, he told himself, bringing his mind back to the present, he had these four to deal with.

Thursdays were the one day he did not interact with any of them in any capacity, and, as it always did, that fact did not sit well for him. He was the reason they were here after all; they were his responsibility and the least he could do was ensure that they were having the best time possible. And so, upon knocking at the boys’ dorm room because, by now, he knew that they were all more likely to be gathered there, he chuckled softly when Jay called our “Come on in, Prince Worry Wart.”

That, he decided, was the mildest insult he had been assigned so far, and like all the others, he simply took it in stride. He saw it as a good sign that none of them made any real effort to pause in their activities with him present. They were not defensive in the least. He chose to interpret that as them finally being comfortable enough in his presence that they went about their activities without thoughts to how he would judge them or react to them. Carlos was still prancing about at the gaming consol, undoubtedly winning as he always did. Jay was seated on the floor in front of Evie who seemed to be using his hair to experiment with hairstyles. Mal was the only one who seemed to be doing anything even remotely academic as she had an assortment of books scattered about her on Carlos’ bed, a notebook in her lap and a calculator in her hand.

She briefly glanced up at him, and he was slightly gratified to see that her cheeks seemed to colour before she looked away. She was becoming increasingly shy around him in the aftermath of their date, and since he still didn’t have the heart to admit to her that he was no longer under her spell, he saw no need to deny himself the pleasure of watching the small changes slowly happening. Gradually, but definitely, she was becoming more open with her feelings, giving him hope for the future of their relationship. He crossed the room, playfully kicking aside the leg Jay had (hopefully playfully) stuck out to trip him, and pausing to bow gallantly at Evie who giggled in response before climbing onto the bed besides Mal. He was well aware of Mal attempting to slyly observe his approach, and so he plastered on the broadest of smiles when he finally dropped down besides her, wiggling into a comfortable position.

“Hello,” he whispered, knocking his head against her arm. His voice lowered automatically to that lower register he always used with her – the one she seemed to like best. “Was your day okay?”

“It was fine,” she answered, and he was both surprised but pleased when for a second, her hand reached down to run once through his hair. “There was, as always, nothing to warrant a visit from you, but I am well aware you already know that.”

“Guilty,” he admitted with a shrug, rolling to his side. “I wanted to see you – all of you actually,” he said, sitting up and addressing them all. “I’ve arranged for a tour of Auradon for you this weekend. I think you guys would love Auradon Mall. There’s an entire floor for gaming, and well, enough stores for you girls to enjoy as well once you get tired of these guys rough housing around.”

“We get to leave the campus?” Carlos asked, turning around, seeming not to care as his character was immediately pounced upon in game.

“Mmhmm,” he agreed. “It’s been nearly a month. You guys deserve a break. I hope you don’t mind, but my mom wants to come as well. She really wants to meet you guys.”

They agreed readily enough; he knew why, dealing with his mom was small pay off for the freedom they were being offered. Besides, he knew they would like her – there wasn’t a soul in Auradon who didn’t, and she held no malice for them. She was as curious as he had been before they had arrived to see how they had fared for the past few years. She had never openly said it, but Ben had gotten the impression that his mom had brought up the issue of the island children in the past. Perhaps Ben had just managed to do what she could not have?

He didn’t press for further conversation beyond that, letting them resume their activities. He knew that, in their own time, they would speak to him. Except, it seemed that he was a lot more tired than he had thought, because in short order, he found himself drowsily observing Mal’s countenance as she worked diligently to, apparently, dozing.

He had had a hard day. After school he had gone straight to his parents’ castle to deal with more matters of state that his father had decided to hand over to him. It was true that he was to be crowned in a little over three weeks, but man was it inconvenient at times to try juggling school projects with national policies. He didn’t even want to think of how more chaotic his life would be once all the responsibilities were transferred onto him. It was no wonder that his dad was, even now, planning the second leg of the trip he and his mother would take not too long after he became king.  

He didn’t know when he noticed it at first, but gradually he was brought back to reality by giggling and laughing that all sounded decidedly mischievous. He wrinkled his nose, trying to keep sleeping through the disturbance, before, finally relenting when Mal laughed again. He opened his eyes, blinking when he found four pairs of sparkling, mirth-filled eyes looking at him.

“Never seen someone sleep before?” he asked, gravely.

“Your prince bites when he now wakes up Mal,” Jay quipped, pulling back.

“You’ll have to train him,” Carlos added before hoping off the bed.

“Did you sleep well, your highness? Evie asked. “We didn’t mean to disturb you. We were simply admiring the sleeping visage of the future king. It is a sight that not many will experience I imagine.” The last was said while shooting a glance at Mal.

“Shut up,” Mal grumbled, tossing a pillow at the blue haired girl who just laughed and pranced away.  “You can sleep some more if you want, you know,” she told him, in a gentler tone. “You look tired.”

“Nah, I’m good,” he responded, although he was pleased at the barest hint of concern that coloured her voice. “How long was I out for?”

“Long enough for us to learn that your growl and snuffle instead of snore,” Mal said in a tone so smooth that he could not decide if she was joking or not.

All of her books had been closed and set aside though, so he had to have been out of it for at least an hour.

“It’s been a difficult day,” he admitted, straightening his shirt.

He meant to say more, but his stomach decided to intervene, loudly declaring that he had not had a thing to eat since lunch time because cream cakes did not really count as sustenance. “S-sorry,” he said, embarrassed.

“Dude, that’s not at all a problem,” a Jay who he now realised was completed braided said. “We got you.”

Before he could feel completely humiliated by the fact that Jay had heard him from that distance, Ben’s eyes widened as Jay docked beneath his bed, emerging with two large bags. He could only watch as Jay moved to where he was and upended the first bag. An assortment of food poured out – sandwiches, muffins, pancakes, half empty jam bottles. Without hesitation, he added the second pile’s offerings to the growing mound, until quite a haul was next to him.

“Dig in,” Jay bid, snagging a hunk of cake. “We’ve got to finish this by what, Sunday Mal?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, selecting a bunch of grapes while Evie asked Carlos to butter a scone for her while he was there. “I’m still working on lengthening the time of the preservation spell, but Sunday’s probably the last day for the meats to stay fresh. The rest could probably hang in for longer than that though.”

“It’s the first spell Mal learnt once we got here,” Carlos explained, while Ben, unable to help himself reached for a turkey leg (and once he had sunk his teeth into it Ben had to admit that it was still pretty fresh). “Nothing’s gone bad so far, not like we would dump it anyway.”

There was a murmur of agreement among them that had Ben pause mid-bite. “You eat stale food?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jay responded, seemingly perplexed by the question. “It’s not like it’s fully rotten.”

The ‘fully’ bothered Ben a lot more than it should have. He had said it so factually, as if spoiled and rotting food was something not at all uncommon for them. And, he thought with dread, perhaps it wasn’t? He knew better than to ask them directly though – that was the quickest way for them to lock themselves off from him.

“How did you get all this though?” he asked instead.

“Swiped it,” Mal said, with a shrug.

“You guys leave back a lot of food,” Evie added, and he clearly head and edge to her voice that he noted, but once again didn’t address.

Ben knew that he could get the answers he wanted; he didn’t need to involve them. And he got his answers that weekend when he headed home. He was thoroughly disgusted by what his father had allowed. The island basically had a food crisis. They had no lands of their own allotted to them for them to cultivate and simply survived on the scraps Auradon shipped to them weekly. _Scraps_. The food that no one wanted or had been discarded was sent to the island with no real thought to proper storage. _That_ was why they had seemed so nonchalant towards spoiling food. _They were used to eating it._

And so, Ben could understand why Jay had a beneath-bed pantry. And, he was pretty certain the girls had one as well in their room. How could he fault them? It was Auradon’s fault that they were hoarders prepping themselves against future starvation. He remembered what they had said, about how Mal spent her spare time trying to lengthen the spell’s longevity. Were they aiming to save food for a time when they were no longer in Auradon? Did they fear that he would send them back?

They probably did, and it hurt him. They had suffered so much that he could not fault them for how they behaved. And, on a lesser note, it also was why he didn’t seek revenge for the fact that they had spelled things all over his face and had changed his hair to a rather putrid shade of green that lasted for days.


End file.
